


The Girl in The Coffee Shop

by friendlyneighborhoodgarbagecan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, Romance, Slow Romance, mention of Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 22:02:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14435025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyneighborhoodgarbagecan/pseuds/friendlyneighborhoodgarbagecan
Summary: Based on a random tumblr prompt: reader or OC is alone in a coffee shop all night on christmas day and you're favorite character works there.





	The Girl in The Coffee Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Sam is a cute little moose and I love him. OC is a quiet, shy girl and I love her too.

Sam was wiping down the coffee shop’s counters at 7:30 am on Christmas day when the first few customers strolled in, a couple walking up to the cashier and ordering their drinks. The third, a lonely girl who looked about his age sat down in a table by the window, headphones in and hands clutching a small notebook. Her eyes met Sam’s and his breath hitched in his throat. Her eyes were a striking grey, captivating and lascivious. Her eyes quickly ripped themselves from Sam’s heated gaze, knowing full well a girl like her could never be with someone like him. She had too much emotional baggage that she couldn’t ever want to put on somebody. It was like receiving a “Dear John” letter, and she’d seen the movie too many times for her to break someone’s heart like that. She secretly watched him wipe the tables, his taut muscles underneath his shirt move and twist with him. He shook his hair and pushed it away with a swipe of his large hand, and leaned over to collect dirty mugs and plates, throwing them in his little black bin. Her head snaps back to her notebook as he turns, albeit catching her in the corner of his eye. His lips quirk up in a small smile, and he shakes his head. He’s acting like a schoolboy who’s never been the same space as the opposite sex. 

 

The door chimes a bunch of times, the day quickly turning into night, and the girl still sits there, her pencil dragging across her notebook in which Sam discovered was a sketchbook. He couldn’t make out distinct shapes but he could figure out that she was drawing someone, due to the soft streaks of hair and the discreet shape of a head. Her lips was dragged into her mouth by her teeth and Sam felt his heart skip a beat. She looked remarkable in her element, and he put two and two together and found out that she was an artist. He congeries the courage to walk up to her.

 

“Hi, I’ve noticed you’ve been in here for a while. Do you need to call somebody?” He chucks a thumb behind him, pointing at the phone laying on the small book under it. Her head pops up, completely unaware that he was talking to her, and her cheeks heat with bashfulness.

 

“Um, no I don’t. Thank you, though.” Her hands slam down on her portrait, desperately trying to cover up what Sam could make out to be him. He played it off like he didn’t notice by continuing to stare at her face, it taking everything in his will to not look down at the portrait. 

 

“It’s almost time for most people to eat dinner with their family. Why are you here, if you don’t mind my asking?” He softly spoke, afraid that he was going to scare her away, or even worse, she looked like she was going to cry and he didn’t want to be the one to start her up.

 

“I haven’t got family,” she states, “they died in a house fire when I was sleeping over at a friend’s. I usually go to a coffee shop during the holidays. My parents don’t have any brothers or sisters so it’s not like I could spend the holidays with an aunt or uncle.” Sam felt bad for the poor girl and left to grab her a free cup of coffee and a scone. For a second, she thought he left because she freaked him out but when she saw him come back with food and a cup of coffee in his hands, her stomach flipped. 

 

“Oh, you really don’t have to do this. I could have payed.” she hands him a ten dollar bill but he doesn’t take it. “Take it.” She insisted, leaving the crisp note on the table. 

 

“I’m afraid not,” he said, shaking his head. His chocolate hair moved slightly and she wanted nothing more than to thread her fingers through it. “This is just me being generous, and you’re gonna have to accept it.” She smiles softly, fixing the bangs that hang on her forehead.

 

“What are you drawing?” Sam asks, hoping she would show him. The color drains from her face as she closes the notebook. “Nothing.” She says, quickly ending the conversation.

 

“I won’t judge, my drawing is terrible.” Sam counters, “So, I don’t have exactly anything to show you in return, but I do write a little. I can let you read some of my work.” His eyebrow lifts a little, and the color flushes towards her cheeks. She thought on it for a few seconds before reluctantly handing over the notebook. 

 

“Thank you.” He smiles before sliding the red band off, unraveling the notebook. He sifts through it, finding pictures of dogs, trees and flowers, landscapes and other nature related drawings. It shifts as he looks through to people walking, new york landscapes, people sleeping and the last picture was of Sam, running a hand through his hair. His muscles were defined but not huge, and the facial details were soft yet manly.

 

“These are incredible,” He spoke quietly, not wanting to announce their business to others in the shop. His fingers run down the page, feeling the silky lead underneath his fingertips. “It looks just like me that’s unreal.” He looks up at her in disbelief, warm brown eyes meeting cool grey ones. “You’re beautiful,” he mutters, almost to himself but she heard it, and it made her voice get lodged in her throat, and couldn’t speak.

 

“C-Can I see read some of your writing?” She questions, taking a piece of the scone and putting into her mouth. For some odd reason, she hated eating in front of people so she snuck food in when they weren’t looking, quickly finishing it when they were. He nodded, excusing himself for a second to go to the backroom, pulling out his notebook, and racing back to hand it to her. Her small hands took it from him, flinching at the touch of his fingers against her one. She felt the electricity slide up her arms, jump starting her heart. She opens and reads a story concerning a man thinking about his lost love. He thinks about the smell of her hair, the sound of her voice, and the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed.

 

“This is amazing, where did you come up with this?” She asked, taking small sips of her cappuccino. The clock struck midnight when he looked back at her, his eyes twinkling with adoration. “My brother and I watched a war movie last night and it inspired me to write about this.” He stated, “I always thought that if I was to lose someone, I would spend the entire day memorizing their face, their laugh, their smile. Love is rare, and hard to find so I’d cherish it.” By the time he finished, her eyes met his and were now steel-colored. The grey shining brightly. 

 

The night slowly rolled around and soon 12 am turned into 1 am and the girl decided it was time for her to go. She packed up her things, shoving the leftover scone in her side satchel and made her way towards the door. She was about to open it before Sam’s hand slammed down on it, causing it to slam and the girl to flinch at the abrupt noise. 

 

“I’m sorry,” He breathed, and he kissed her. His hands formed around her round face, stroking his thumb across her cheek. She was unbelievable soft, just like Sam had imagined and it took moments for her to register before her lips moved slowly against his. There was no one in the shop but them, so they had all the time in the world in this moment. It was odd of Sam to kiss a stranger like this but he had to, he wasn’t going to see her once and never again after that. He wanted to see her face for the rest of his life.

 

“Go on a date with me this saturday, and I’ll explain everything.” 

 

“Okay,” She simply said before she ducked out of the shop and he watched her walk down the street, his eyes never leaving her small frame as she bobbed and weaved through people.


End file.
